Just as Wittmann had said, I passed the third exam. Elena and Hermann did as well, proving that hitting the target really had been the deciding factor.
The twenty candidates who passed would advance to the fourth exam. Once again, there was a gap between stages, but as usual, we had no inkling of what the next test would entail, leaving us unable to prepare any specific counterstrategies. With nothing else to do, I spent my days visiting the library to read grimoires and wandering the city streets.
"...Excuse me, guest? Do you have a moment?"
One evening, while I was writing at the desk in my inn room, Amalia knocked on the door. It felt a little early for dinner, making me wonder if something had happened.
"Come on in. What's going on?"
"Pardon the intrusion! Um, there's someone downstairs who's asking to see you."
"To see me? Is it Elena or Hermann?"
"No, it's neither of them."
Huh, it's not? Then who in the world could it be? I barely knew anyone in Ulm who would go out of their way to pay me a visit.
"Where are they?"
"Downstairs. Would you like me to bring them up?"
"No, I'll head down."
I pushed back from my chair and left the room alongside Amalia, making our way toward the stairs. When it came to people I knew, the town guard and Sophie came to mind, but... there was no reason for either of them to seek me out here. Caught between a flicker of anticipation and a touch of dread, I reached the landing—
"Hey there! Looking lively as ever, I see."
"...Huh?"
At the bottom of the stairs, tipping his hat with a gentle, crinkly smile, was—unmistakably—my father. He was the last person I ever expected to see, and I froze dead in my tracks.
"Um, guest? Who is this...?"
"H-He's my dad. He's supposed to be back home in the countryside."
"Wait, your father?"
"Must be nice, being doted on by a pretty young lady. You never had any girls paying attention to you back home."
"Dad, what are you even doing here...?"
Granted, it had been more than two weeks since I sent my letter, so his arrival wasn't entirely impossible. But still... why had he traveled all the way to the capital?
As a flurry of questions raced through my mind, my father ambled over. Stretching up slightly, he gave me an affectionate pat on the head and offered a warm remark.
"I just came to see how you were holding up. Looks like you've been working yourself ragged, haven't you?"
An involuntary breath slipped past my lips. The sheer relief of seeing family after so long made every ounce of tension drain from my body.
"I'm terribly sorry! The master won't be back until tonight, so I can't offer you anything to eat."
"Don't you worry about that, little miss. Do you happen to have any wine?"
"Ah, yes! Just a moment, please!"
Behind the counter, Amalia bustled about energetically. I sat side by side with my father, catching my breath. Even so, the shock hadn't entirely worn off; I never dreamed he would actually leave our village.
"Dad, why did you go through all the trouble of coming out here?"
"Because of the letter you sent. Writing a reply would've been a pain, so I figured I might as well just make the trip myself."
"What about the money, though? Didn't you already sell off a field for my sake...?"
"Come now, don't fret over things like that. I've got no intention of making my children worry about coin."
My father chuckled heartily. My parents had always been this way. When it came to spending money on me and my little sister, they never hesitated for a single second. While I was deeply grateful from a child's perspective, I couldn't help but wonder if my parents were really being fair to themselves.
"By the way, I hear you took first place on the written exam. That's a mighty impressive feat, isn't it?"
"Wait, how did you know about that?"
"Receiving a royal grant means as much, doesn't it? Hard to believe a boy like you came from me, hahaha!"
A quiet sense of wonder settled over me. It was the same when he had pushed me to go to the capital, but my father seemed strangely knowledgeable about the mage examination. I had never once seen him cast a spell, and he wasn't even supposed to know how to read in the first place.
"Sorry to keep you waiting! Here is your wine!"
"Ah, much obliged, little miss."
As I pondered the matter, Amalia's cheerful voice broke my train of thought. My father accepted the cup brimming with deep crimson wine and took a measured sip. Letting out a satisfied sigh, he looked thoroughly delighted by the taste.
"Whew, but that was an ordeal. I had no idea where you were staying."
"Ah, sorry about that. I should've included the name of the inn in my letter. But how did you end up finding me?"
"I was at my wit's end, so I stopped by the cathedral. They're the ones who told me you were lodging at a place called 'Groot.'"
"Oh, so that's how."
"Still wasn't easy, mind you. I can't read, so big-city maps are completely beyond me."
The cathedral... he surely meant the one where Sophie worked. I remembered having to list my local accommodations in Ulm when I submitted my application. Someone must have been thoughtful enough to pass the information along to him.
"Come to think of it, Dad, had you ever visited Ulm before?"
"Yeah, I have. Decades ago now, though."
"What brought you here back then?"
"Just a trip with your mother. Though the place seems to have changed an awful lot since those days."
"In what way?"
"Magic seems to have developed leaps and bounds. It was a bustling city back then, sure, but nothing like this."
"Huh..."
In other words, the capital had undergone a massive magical boom over the past several decades. While folks out in the countryside continued to keep magic at arm's length, the divide between the two had widened drastically.
Now that I thought about it, my parents—especially my father—had never shown any disdain for magic. That was exceptionally rare for rural folk. After all, he had never once tried to stop me from reading grimoires. It was truly baffling....Ah, right, I had to ask the most important question.
"Dad, about what I asked in my letter..."
"Hm?"
"Those grimoires in our shed—whose were they originally?"
"Ah..."
All I did was ask who owned them, yet my father brought the cup back to his lips with a deeply knowing expression. Was there some grave secret behind them, or perhaps...? Bracing myself, I waited anxiously for his next words.